


Intrigue & Influence

by iwasnttrainedforthis



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Jane Austen Fusion, Alternate Universe - Regency, M/M, No Period-Typical Homophobia, Non-Graphic Violence, Secret Identity, persuasion au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26899087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwasnttrainedforthis/pseuds/iwasnttrainedforthis
Summary: Once upon a time Merlin and Harry were young and in love. But Merlin is pressured by Arthur into breaking off the engagement to focus on his efforts in the war against France. Harry flees to the continent, finding work as a spy.Years later, the war is over and Harry is back to visit his family, bringing him back into the same small circle as Merlin.This shouldn’t be a problem, since they are definitely not still in love with each other.(A Persuasion AU)
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Merlin
Kudos: 21





	Intrigue & Influence

Merlin floats through the door to Arthur’s study. He barely hears Arthur grumbling at him. “About time you showed up.”

Merlin sits down in front of Arthur’s desk. “Harry loves me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Merlin shakes off the vision of Harry’s smiling face, the only thing on his mind since they parted not half an hour ago. “Harry Hart? The gentleman I told you about? He is in town staying with his brother and we’ve been spending time together. He’s handsome and clever and he’s going to travel the world. And he wants me to go with him.” Merlin still can’t believe it.

Arthur looks back at him solemnly. “And when you told him you couldn’t?”

Merlin shakes his head, confused. “He asked me to marry him, and I said yes.”

“You’ve mentioned this Mr Hart, and I said nothing, because I didn’t think it necessary. I never imagined things would progress this far.” Arthur folds his hands in front of him. “You can’t seriously mean to marry a man you’ve known for all of six weeks.”

It does sound a bit hasty when you put it like that. “People do it all the time. And I know enough about Harry to know that he will make me happy.”

“What do you know about Harry?”

He has dreamy brown eyes and the fluffiest curly hair and a heart-stopping smile. “He studied natural history and classical literature in school. He speaks French and German and Greek, and we agree on all the important political topics.” Arthur looks faintly pitying. “He’s kind to animals.” Merlin feels like he’s reaching.

“All very important things, I’m sure. But what will happen with the work we do here when you leave to travel the world with Mr Hart?”

Merlin hadn’t gotten that far. “We can still correspond. I can work on some things while we travel.” He sits up straighter. “I can be meeting our contacts in person!” Arthur shakes his head.

“And what will he be doing? Do you think he’ll be happy to sit alone in your rooms waiting for you to return? He won’t have any questions about what you’re up to?”

The butterflies in Merlin’s stomach have turned to a ball of lead. “Maybe we could tell him—”

Arthur shakes his head. “No. I’ve kept you here working with me instead of out in the field for a reason. Any fool can run around the continent trying to steal secrets. All the shipping schedules or troop reviews in the world do us no good without someone who can interpret them. I need your brain, Merlin.” He taps the sheaf of papers on his desk. “Percival was stabbed by a Spanish sailor and barely escaped with his life to send us this field report. What would his sacrifice mean if you were too busy on your honeymoon to look at it?”

Merlin clenches his jaw. These thoughts have crossed his mind as well. The information gathering he does for Arthur often keeps him up late into the night, staring at hastily scribbled and stained letters, writing out his own replies. He could never burden Harry with it, but the work is vital to the war effort. Somehow the prospect of keeping everything balanced seemed less daunting when Harry was standing in front of him, holding his hands and looking into his eyes and promising forever.

He looks back up at Arthur, brow furrowed. “I’ll make something up, perhaps Harry would be willing to defer his travels…” Even as he says it, he feels his heart start to sink.

Arthur leans forward. “Is that what would be best for Harry?” He picks up Percival’s report and straightens the papers before holding them out to Merlin. “I remember what it was like to be young and have your head turned by every pretty face. I’m only saving you from heartache later. A hasty marriage will lead to regret.” He looks earnest. Merlin resists the urge to strike him and takes the papers instead. If he can lose himself in the work, he can forget for a few hours the way his heart is breaking.

Harry gives a polite smile and nods at the man eyeing him appreciatively from across the ballroom, but doesn’t move from where he’s standing. Men and women in brightly coloured coats and gowns whirl around the room. He can hear conversations in three different languages taking place around him. It’s everything Harry dreamed of, stuck in dull country drawing rooms back home.

He is not enjoying himself in the least.

Everything seems flat, uninteresting, without Hamish by his side. It’s strange how he hadn’t even known the man for a month before he started to appear in all of Harry’s hopes and dreams for the future.

Harry always imagined the concept of a broken heart to be metaphorical until the day Hamish came to him and explained, haltingly, that he didn’t want to marry Harry after all. He felt the pain right in the center of his chest, as if it was cracking down the middle.

He had demanded an explanation he could argue against, something he could change or do differently. Hamish had muttered something about being too hasty, not being suited for each other. Harry had a sinking feeling he was hearing the words of Chester King. But Hamish wouldn’t look him in the eye, and a gentleman has to know how to gracefully accept a rejection.

Harry reminds himself he’s better off. He doesn’t need a partner who could be so easily persuaded. And they were being hasty. It would be foolish to rush into marriage just because a man is handsome, and smart, and funny, and has beautiful eyes Harry could spend all afternoon staring into.

He resolves to stop thinking about Hamish Elliot altogether. He scans the room desperately for something, anything to keep him occupied instead.

To his great relief, he sees the man who had given him the eye earlier approaching. “I apologize for being so forward, but I’m afraid I don’t know many people here. Would you like to dance?”

Harry smiles at him. “I would be delighted.”

As they spin around the ballroom, Harry can’t help but notice the man’s conversational gambits tend to fade whenever the dance brings them close to one particular couple. They couple is speaking Greek, of all things. Something about a delivery of ammunition? His dance partner seems frustrated.

“I don’t suppose you know Greek, do you?” he asks Harry.

“I do,” says Harry. “Although my listening comprehension skills must be getting rusty. Why would they be discussing delivery of ammunition at a ball?” He turns his head slightly to look back at the men. “They’re heading back this direction. Let me see if I can hear anything more.”

The man grins at Harry. “I think we are going to be good friends.”

* * *

Galahad-

Your previous dispatch was very useful. I cannot provide details, but know those shipping schedules saved several of our ships from destruction and also saved the life of one of our operatives. Requesting from you now the following: schematics for the newest ship of the line, locations of fortifications along the coast, distribution details for the most recent artillery purchase. Enclosed please find 200 francs for your expenses.

Merlin-

Is that all? Only schematics and locations and bills of sale? You do realise that you are writing to one single person and not an entire branch of your organization? And may I remind you the French aren’t exactly announcing this information. At any moment I am only a few impertinent questions away from having my hosts start to wonder why an English lepidopterist chose the middle of a war to conduct his study of continental butterflies.

Of note, I have encountered a member of the court who has been making clumsy attempts to befriend me and hint at his enthusiasm for the English cause. Do you think any of our identities have been compromised? Unclear if I should ignore or if it would be worth the risk to sow disinformation. Please advise. Enclosed please find schematics, maps, bills of sale, etc.

Galahad-

If you weren’t such a capable agent, my requests wouldn’t be so expansive. You have only yourself to blame. Information from other agents suggests police in your area have been advised of the presence of a potential spy. Recommend you leave the area immediately and do not attempt further contact with the court. Enclosed please find contact information for Gawain in Vienna. Will send next request for information when you are safely relocated.

Merlin-

Touched by your concern for my safety. You needn’t worry. Made contact with Gawain with no difficulty. Stopped by a drinking house favored by French shipbuilders on my way out of town. With the application of enough wine, I find my information gathering limited only by the amount of paper I can conceal on my person when traveling. Enclosed please find launch dates for the first-rate under construction as well as destinations for several other ships.

Galahad-

Concerned we may have differing definitions of the word immediately. Nevertheless your information on the launch dates proved invaluable. Possible for you to infiltrate salons, ballrooms, etc in Austria? Contact with nobility may prove valuable as well. Enclosed please find a pocket watch with false back. I trust you can work out the operation. You’ll have to provide your own paper and pencil.

Merlin-

Absolutely delighted with my new watch. I noticed the chain was reinforced, which I found especially useful when I ran into a spot of trouble heading back into Prussia. Had arranged a meeting with Lancelot in Potsdam but I missed him. No messages at our pre-arranged drop sites. Concerned he may be in trouble. Do you have more information?

* * *

Merlin looks over the letter one last time before folding it tightly and slipping it between the leaves of a volume on ideal crop rotation. By rights he should have burned it along with the rest of his correspondence. What kind of a spy leaves incriminating evidence lying around? But he was never really a spy, and if he wants to keep one letter from his favorite operative to remember that he’s made a difference to someone, he will.

He shelves the volume and walks over to look out the window. He frowns as he considers the contents of the letter. That was his last contact with Galahad, and he never was able to find out what happened to Lancelot. With the cessation of hostilities shortly afterwards, Arthur insisted he would handle the dissolution of the network, and Merlin’s services were no longer needed. Merlin is glad the war is over, he really is. He just wonders what he’s going to do with himself now.

Merlin spots Tilde and Roxy making their way towards the house. Roxy waves, and Merlin lifts his hand in reply. He glances back at his empty desk, then heads out to join them.

“Have you heard the news?” Tilde asks.

“That depends on what the news is,” Merlin replies.

“They’ve found a tenant for Kellynch Hall!”

“Exciting news indeed.” If this counts as excitement now, it’s a worthwhile tradeoff to know that if he teaches Roxy to spar, or Tilde to encrypt a message, it will be for their amusement only. “And do we know who the tenant is?”

“Hart is the name.” Merlin whips his head over to stare at Roxy. She tilts her head, confused. “Someone you know?”

Merlin forces himself to take a breath or two before responding. He aims for casual. “There was a gentleman by that name who stayed in the area several years back. I suppose it might be the same man.”

“We met Mrs Hart when we stopped by to welcome them,” Roxy says, not realising she’s giving Merlin’s heart such a workout. But of course Harry would marry someone else eventually. “She said Mr Hart’s brother would also be visiting, on his way back from the continent. What did she say the brother’s name was?”

“Mr Harry Hart, wasn’t it?”

And Merlin had just been wishing for something else to occupy his mind. He won’t make that mistake again.

Harry accepts the tea from Sophia and sits across from her. “How are you and John finding the house?” he asks.

She beams at him. “We like it very much. So well-appointed. I would hardly change a thing. And the town is very nice as well. You stayed near here with Edward for a time before your trip to the continent didn’t you?”

Harry sips his tea as if those few months were barely memorable. “He was living here around that time, yes.”

She carries right on. “And the neighbors are so friendly. Those lovely young women stopped by to welcome us the other day. We’ll have to introduce you.” She gives him a significant look. “Now that you’re done with your running around, it’s time for you to be settling down.”

Harry considers this. It’s true he’s given little thought to romance recently, he’s been a bit busy. But he always thought he would marry one day. He certainly has no intention of pining for Hamish for the rest of his life. Perhaps it is time for him to meet some new people. He smiles at Sophia. “I look forward to meeting them.”

* * *

Merlin sits in the chair nearest the window, book in hand. His sister is lying on the sofa opposite him, bemoaning the fact that her husband left to go hunting this morning without even asking after the state of her headache, which is significant. Merlin turns a page and makes a sympathetic noise. He does love his sister. Most of the time.

He looks up when the maid shows Roxy into the parlor. She looks animated and flushed with exercise. “Tilde and I were out walking when we passed our brother and Mr Harry Hart on their way back from hunting,” she tells Mary. Merlin closes his book in alarm. “Your husband invited us all back to the house, but Mr Hart absolutely insisted we check with you first before he called.”

Mary is sitting up now, already looking a great deal perkier. “How very considerate! But of course I would be delighted to receive you. My head is feeling much better after a morning of rest, I find.”

Roxy beams. “They can’t be more than a few minutes behind me.” Merlin is already almost to the doorway. “Merlin?”

“I just remembered I have to…” he trails off. He’s being a bit ridiculous. “Put this book up.” He pivots to place the book on the nearest shelf.

He can’t avoid Harry forever, much as he would like to. Best to get it over with. He straightens his cravat and frowns at the ragged sleeve cuffs which didn’t seem quite as noticeable when he got dressed this morning. There’s commotion at the front door. Merlin picks another book at random and opens it, leaning casually against the bookshelf.

He looks back up and straight into the eyes of Harry Hart.

Harry glances away immediately, smiling pleasantly at Mary as they are introduced. When Charles says “And I believe you are already acquainted with Mr Elliot,” Harry offers a polite nod, which Merlin returns. Harry allows himself to be drawn back into conversation with Mary. Merlin chats with Roxy and Tilde for a few moments before turning his attention to his book.

The original group decides a walk to town would suit them nicely. Mary declares she is feeling much better and will join them. Merlin declines the invitation, watching from just inside the window until they pass the front gate.

He lays down on his sister’s sofa, staring at the ceiling. Merlin had convinced himself that Harry wouldn’t measure up to his memory. So many years have passed. Merlin still thinks of him more often than he would like, but surely it was being young and relatively carefree that he really missed, not Harry himself.

The truth is Harry has only grown more handsome with time. Merlin will have to hope they won’t be thrown together more often than absolutely necessary, for the sake of his heart.

Harry stands next to Tilde, listening to Roxy play the piano-forte while Hamish turns the pages for her. His face is serious, as if the fate of the world rests on making sure the page gets turned at exactly the right moment.

Harry has made an effort to keep his attention focused on anything and everything non-Hamish this evening. He is here to be social, just not with the man who broke his heart. But he can’t always help himself.

He hardly recognized Hamish when they finally met again. It’s not the physical changes; the man seated at the dinner table this evening might be leaner and have less hair than Harry remembers, but that only leaves him more striking. What’s missing is the smile that still occasionally haunts Harry’s dreams. Harry watched him make polite conversation with his neighbors all evening, but his eyes hold a sadness Harry doesn’t remember.

Or maybe that’s wishful thinking.

The piece ends and everyone applauds politely. Harry leans over to Tilde. “Will you be playing for us as well?”

She laughs. “I’m not nearly the musician that Roxy is, so I will spare you. I prefer painting, myself.”

“How wonderful. I hope i have the chance to see your work one day.”

She brightens, turning back towards Hamish and Roxy. “I have one I just finished that I meant to show Hamish.” She places a hand briefly on his arm. “Wait right here.”

Curious now, he watches her hurry over to Roxy, who follows her out of the room. Hamish looks up, catching Harry’s eye. Harry turns his gaze to the fire. He pretends to be absorbed by the contents of his brandy glass next until finally Tilde and Roxy re-enter the room, preceded by a servant carrying a good sized canvas, which is propped up on an easel in the corner.

It’s a competently done portrait of a woman Harry doesn’t recognize. He tilts his head, considering. There is something about the pattern of the woman’s dress that seems odd. He’s getting ready to make the appropriate complimentary remarks regardless when Hamish comes over to join them, standing on the other side of the painting, with Roxy and Tilde between them.

“It looks very nice, Tilde,” Hamish says, leaning close to inspect the canvas. “Did you use...” he trails off when Tilde nods, smiling. She picks up a lantern from the side table and walks around behind the painting. Harry furrows his brows as she holds the light up behind the canvas. His eyes go wide when this reveals the lines of a second painting underneath the first.

He steps forwards without thinking, leaning down next to Hamish. “Is that a map of Portugal? How on earth?”

“Outstanding!” Hamish takes the lamp from Tilde with an excited grin, holding it behind the painting himself while he takes a closer look.

Harry looks back at Roxy, at a bit of a loss. “Hamish developed the paint himself. It’s meant to be invisible until you shine a light behind it,” she explains. “Just for fun, of course.”

“The level of detail on the coastline is impressive,” he says.

Tilde waves a hand. “Geography has always been a passion of mine.”

Hamish has produced a small notebook from somewhere and started making notes, peering closely at the paint. Roxy takes Harry’s arm and steers him away. “Have your travels ever taken you to Portugal?” she asks. Tilde takes his other arm and they take a turn around the room as Harry shares a highly edited version of his last trip there.

* * *

Merlin is working on some correspondence in the library when Roxy and Tilde are shown in.

“We’re here to pick you up for the picnic,” Tilde says brightly.

Merlin frowns. “I don’t recall being invited to a picnic.”

Roxy takes his pen and places it on the desk. “We didn’t invite you, because you haven’t been accepting our invitations. Consider this more of an abduction.”

He frowns harder. “I’ve been busy.”

Both women look at him now, concern on their faces. “We didn’t properly realize until yesterday, but we haven’t seen much of you lately. Is Arthur giving you a hard time?” asks Roxy.

“No, just tying up some loose ends.”

“Are you feeling well? All your family in good health?”

Merlin wonders if it’s too late for him to develop the symptoms of scarlet fever. He sighs. “All fine, thank you for your concern.”

“So you can join us after all,” Tilde says as they start heading towards the door. Merlin accepts his fate.

It really is a lovely spot they’ve chosen for the picnic. A broad clearing, on a hill with a pretty view and a tree to provide some shade. The view includes the Unwin farm and house, which Merlin suspects may have factored into the decision.

For once the sun is out, and there’s just the right amount of breeze to be pleasant. Merlin manages to keep plenty of distance between himself and Harry, and finds he does enjoy the company after all.

And sure enough, not long after they’ve finished eating, Merlin spots Eggsy walking up the path from the house. He hails them all good-naturedly. “Saw you enjoying your picnic up here, thought I would stop by and say hello.”

“And you just happened to bring your cricket bat with you?” asks Merlin with a raised eyebrow. Tilde in particular enjoys the game, as Eggsy well knows. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Harry’s head come up.

Eggsy ducks his head. “It’s a nice day, I thought I might get in a little practice. Of course, if anyone wanted to help me practice…”

Harry has popped to his feet. “I very much missed playing while I was on the continent.” He holds out his hand. “Harry Hart, at your service.”

“Eggsy Unwin. Do you want to bat or bowl?” And they’re off.

Merlin watches them play. He’s not admiring Harry’s long legs as he jogs after the ball, or his broad shoulders as he swings the bat. He’s observing Eggsy’s technique so he can offer suggestions later.

Next to him Tilde is also watching wistfully. He really has no choice. “If you’d like to play as well, I’ll join you to make a foursome.” Tilde smiles at him and jumps to her feet.

Merlin regrets his generosity in short order. He finds himself standing awkwardly next to Harry and the makeshift wicket, watching Eggsy and Tilde playfully argue over the next ball. He wants to grumble about getting on with it already but Eggsy is grinning and Tilde is giggling and he just doesn’t have the heart.

He’ll have to get used to making polite, meaningless conversation with Harry eventually, no matter that what he feels isn’t polite or meaningless. He inhales and pivots to face Harry. “Do you—”

“This is—” Harry has turned towards him at the same time. They both stop and look at each other for a moment.

“My apologies, you were—”

“I didn’t mean to—”

They both stop again. Harry laughs briefly, his dimples flashing just long enough to stop Merlin’s heart. He can’t help but smile back.

Harry just stares at him now, blinking. Right. Polite, meaningless. Merlin clears his throat and turns to face forward again. “I’m sorry, you were saying?” he says.

Harry straightens a bit, turning away as well. “Nothing important, I assure you. I was just going to comment that this is a lovely spot for a picnic. A popular one, I’m sure.”

“The young ones are very fond of picnics.”

Harry nods at Tilde and Eggsy. “I’m starting to suspect Eggsy had another partner in mind when he brought his ball and bat. I hope he doesn’t mind that I jumped in.”

Eggsy and Tilde might be the only people in the world, for all the attention they’re paying to anything else. “You’ll have to forgive them. Tilde is very fond of Eggsy, and the sentiment is returned, but my sister does everything she can to keep them apart.” Merlin aims a wry look at Harry. “His family is quite inferior and unpolished, you know. Not a good match at all.”

“She doesn’t seem like the sort to let that stop her.”

The comment is so pointed that Merlin needs a minute to recover, but it’s nothing he doesn’t deserve. He’s almost glad to see his sister headed straight towards Eggsy and Tilde with a determined look in her eye. He starts walking to head her off, beckoning for Harry to follow. “No doubt you are correct. Still, no reason not to help them out if we can. If you don’t mind being thrown to the wolves?” He looks back at Harry with raised eyebrows. Harry nods, straightening his shoulders as Mary approaches. “Mary, Harry was telling me that he has never gleaned hazelnuts before. It told him it was your favorite pastime on our picnics.”

“But—” Mary starts.

“I would be delighted if you would show me how.” Harry knows exactly what he’s doing with that charming smile and those big brown eyes. Mary actually giggles as she takes Harry’s arm.

Merlin watches them go. He heads in the opposite direction, stopping to let Eggsy and Tilde know they can keep practicing on their own. He’s got time for a walk to stretch his legs before the group will be ready to leave. He’s not much in the mood to be social anymore.

* * *

Harry walks down the streets of Bath with Roxy on his arm. Ahead of him, Hamish walks with Tilde and Ginger, the three of them chatting animatedly. Harry had suspected that his old friends would get along well with the new acquaintances his sister had introduced him to. It’s part of the reason he didn’t offer much protest when his trip to Bath turned into a full-fledged excursion.

Ginger had written to warn him a nefarious figure had been poking around his former lodgings, asking after him. As he had been making his plans to investigate, the stories he shared about the friends he was to visit and the entertainments to be found in the town soon had Roxy, Tilde and Mary planning their own arrangements. Even Hamish grudgingly admitted he had a few acquaintances he owed a visit. Everything was settled before Harry could start to wonder if it was the wisest course of action to have his new friends with him if the situation turned dangerous.

Harry can’t shake an uneasy feeling as his small party strolls down the road away from their lodgings. He tenses as he spots a man in a dark coat walking towards them at a much faster pace than Harry’s group is moving. Harry is certain this is not the first time he’s seen the man today. It’s as if time slows down when Harry sees the flash of a knife. Harry steps in front of Roxy as the man raises his arm.

Harry dodges the slice of the knife and strikes to disarm the man. The knife clatters to the ground and then Harry and the man are grappling. Harry tries to stop their momentum when they veer towards Roxy but it’s too late. They topple into her before Harry rolls them over, landing several blows to the man’s face.

He stops when he hears shrieking from behind him. Leaving the man motionless on the ground, he gets up to see Roxy also lying on the ground, unconscious.

He hurries back to Roxy, kneeling by her side. He can see blood starting to pool from a gash on the back of her head. Hamish is kneeling on her other side, tilting her head back gently. “She’s still breathing. Harry, give me your cravat.” As Harry hurries to take it off, Hamish starts issuing more orders. “Ginger, do you know where to find the nearest doctor? We shouldn’t move her until she can be looked at.” Ginger nods, picking up her skirts and running back down the street. “Charles, go back to the house and tell Percival to prepare a bed for her.” His tone softens a little as he looks at Tilde, standing next to them wringing her hands. “Tilde, can you?” He tilts his head towards Mary, who has stopped shrieking but is now sobbing into her hands. Tilde goes to take Mary under her arm, making soothing noises.

Harry applies pressure to the makeshift bandage. Roxy’s face is very pale. “This is all my fault,” he says to himself. He looks back to see the attacker has disappeared. He can’t place the man’s face, but it’s obvious he knew Harry.

Hamish shakes his head. “It’s not your fault.” But Harry knows he’s wrong.

Merlin sits by Roxy’s bedside, watching her breathe. They moved her to Percival’s house after the doctor examined her, as it was determined more conducive to recovery than the inn. She woke briefly but wasn’t lucid. According to the doctor there is nothing they can do now but let her rest. Merlin is aware of Harry watching from the other side of the room. He wishes he could go back to a few days ago, when his biggest worry was having to face Harry over dinner.

“She called you Merlin,” Harry says.

Merlin freezes for a moment, then carefully straightens the bedclothes around Roxy. “A family nickname.”

“Hm.”

Fortunately Tilde enters the room just then, crossing over to Merlin’s side. She hands him a folded sheet of paper. Merlin takes it without comment. “I’ll be sitting with her for a while, if you want to get some rest,” she says.

Merlin nods, clasping her shoulder for a moment before leaving the room. He gathers his hat and coat, stopping at the door to look over the sheet of paper. Tilde has put together a serviceable sketch of the man Merlin will be looking for this evening. Her artist’s eye for detail has never been so useful. He folds it back up and sticks it in his pocket once more only to realize that Harry has followed him and is watching him, again. Alarmingly, he has also put on his hat and coat.

“I am only going out to pick up the laudanum the physician prescribed,” Merlin tries. Harry looks faintly disapproving. “You should stay with Roxy. I know it would mean a lot to her if you were there when she wakes.”

Harry shakes his head. “I’m going with you.”

“That’s really not necessary.”

“I can accompany you now, or I can wait until you leave and then follow you at a discreet distance. It’s your choice, of course.”

Merlin narrows his eyes, wondering what happened to the gentle, soft-hearted Harry he used to know. He opens the door and gestures for Harry to precede him. Neither of them speak, even when Merlin bypasses the apothecary and instead stops at a tavern to show Tilde’s sketch around.

They have better luck at the second public house and leave with directions to a rented room several blocks away. Harry stops Merlin with a hand on his arm once they’re back outside. He glances around to make sure no one is nearby, then leans close. “What exactly are you planning once we track this gentleman down?”

Merlin looks back down the street because it’s easier than facing Harry’s penetrating stare. “I just have a few questions for the man.”

Harry shakes his head. “It’s not safe. The man had a knife. He was clearly after me to begin with.” He takes hold of Merlin’s arm and tries to turn him around. “Perhaps you should head back to check on Roxy. I’ll take a look at this rented room, and let you know what I find out.”

Merlin plants his feet. “If it’s not safe, why on earth would I let you go alone? What is your plan?”

Harry grits his teeth. “Perhaps I just want to have a chat with the gentleman about the dangers of a life of thievery and assault.”

They stare at each other for a moment. “So, we’ll both go,” says Merlin eventually.

“Fine.”

When they arrive at the given address, Harry walks up to the front door and knocks. There’s no answer. Merlin starts making his way towards the alley in the back. He doesn’t even make it to the door before a man comes barreling out of it. Merlin tries to stop him, crying out involuntarily when a knife slices into his side. Harry appears as if from nowhere, bodily lifting the man and tossing him back inside the house. There’s a flurry of motion in the doorway, but it’s dark and Merlin can’t make out much, until he sees Harry stand and wipe his face, breathing heavily. “I don’t think you’ll be able to ask your questions. It appears he accidentally stabbed himself with his own knife. Very clumsy.”

Harry stoops back down to rifle through the man’s coat pockets. Merlin sees him pull out a packet of papers. “What did you find?” he asks. He thinks his voice sounds remarkably steady.

Harry straightens, pocketing the papers and making his way back over to Merlin. Harry ignores Merlin’s question, lifting Merlin’s hand from his side briefly before pressing it back down. “That will need a doctor.”

Merlin looks down at it as well. “It’s not that deep. I don’t suppose our friend kept any alcohol in his room?”

Harry ducks back inside for a moment, reappearing with a bottle of gin. He pulls off his cravat as well. “This is my second one today,” he says. Merlin hadn’t noticed the first time, but Harry does seem oddly well-practiced at turning it into a makeshift bandage.

Merlin grits his teeth as the alcohol hits the wound. He allows Harry to tie the bandage around his waist, before tugging his shirt back into place. It’s barely noticeable. He looks back up at Harry. “Perhaps we could not mention this whole business to anybody back at the inn.”

Harry is watching him closely, one hand in his pocket. “As you wish, Merlin.”

* * *

Harry checks the line of his coat in the mirror. Percival has left to walk Tilde back to the inn, so if he goes to look in on Roxy now, he’ll be able to check on Hamish at the same time.

He furrows his brow as he pulls out a handful of papers from his coat pocket. He’d forgotten about them, too worried about getting Hamish back here safely. His frown deepens as he looks over the note. It’s written as a cypher. It’s not the same code he used to communicate with Merlin, but it’s close enough to be concerning. Has he been targeted by the same organisation that employed him in the first place? Harry trusts Merlin with his life, but he can’t say the same about the rest of his colleagues.

He’s positive now that Hamish is his Merlin. It became clear in an instant when he heard the nickname why the razor-sharp brain behind the letters that directed his actions on the continent seemed so familiar.

Knowing this soothes a bit of the heartache Harry only recently realized he still carried with him. He understands now. Of course a man so accomplished and diligent couldn’t seriously consider marrying Harry. The only real question is why Merlin had entertained Harry’s advances in the first place.

He heads down the stairs, slowing as he nears the doorway. He can hear Merlin reading to Roxy in the deep smooth voice Harry has always loved. He enters the room as silently as he ever entered any empty library in a house full of French generals, taking a seat in the chair by the fire. The note can wait a moment.

Roxy drifts off to sleep before long and Merlin stops reading. He closes the book and looks longingly towards the tea set on the other side of the bed. When he braces himself with a hand on his side, Harry jumps to his feet, holding a staying hand out.

“May I get you a cup of tea?” he asks quietly, moving to pour a cup without waiting for a response. Merlin looks startled, but nods. Harry brings the cup over to him. “How is she?”

Merlin takes a grateful sip before replying. “Better this morning.”

“And yourself?”

“Perfectly well, thank you.”

Harry glances back at the doorway before asking “May I take a look?” Merlin frowns and looks like he’s preparing to argue. “For my own peace of mind, since you refused to see the doctor?”

Merlin still hesitates but Harry just waits patiently. Eventually Merlin nods and after glancing at Roxy, shrugs out of his coat and unbuttons his shirt. Harry’s face feels slightly warm. He was genuinely concerned about the potential for infection but it’s possible he hadn’t thought this through. He still leans down to take a quick look, placing one hand on the firm abdomen. To check for warmth or swelling, of which there is none.

He clears his throat. “Everything looks good. Thank you for letting me check.” He turns away to let Merlin put himself back in order. When he judges it safe to turn back around, he pulls out the note. “I found this on our attacker, but I can’t make heads or tails out of it.”

Merlin takes the note, unfolding it to scan the contents. His eyebrows go up. He looks back at Harry. “You didn’t think to mention this yesterday?”

“I was a little busy at the time. Can you read it or not?”

Merlin just hands Harry his empty tea cup. “A fresh pot would be lovely, if you don’t mind.”

Harry lets himself be misdirected. By the time he returns with the fresh pot of tea, Merlin has produced from somewhere a well-worn sheet of paper. He’s making notes in his notebook and doesn’t seem to notice when Harry brings the lamp from the side table closer.

Finally he underlines the last word a few extra times and sets the pencil aside. Harry lasts a minute or two before asking, “Well?”

Merlin looks back up at Harry, and Harry is taken aback by the anger in his eyes. Merlin stands, pocketing the letter. “I need to visit an old friend. Percival should be back shortly, if you wouldn’t mind sitting with Roxy until then.” He starts moving towards the door.

“No,” Harry says. At a sharp glance from Merlin, he continues more quietly, “A man stabbed you last night. Have some sense.”

Merlin’s face softens a bit. “I appreciate your concern, and I thank you for your help yesterday, but truly Harry, this is not something you should be involved in.”

He turns to go again. Harry catches Merlin’s arm before he can leave. “I’m already involved.” He pulls his pocket watch out, showing it to Merlin.

Merlin’s eyes go wide, and he steps back a bit. “Where did you get that?” His eyes go back up to Harry’s face, darting from side to side as if he’s noticing a dozen new details.

Harry releases the tiny hidden compartment with his thumbnail, pulling out the last letter Merlin sent him. “You gave it to me, Merlin.”

“Galahad,” Merlin says without even glancing at the letter. The corner of his mouth ticks up a little. “I might have known.”

Harry smiles back, delighted. “I knew you didn’t give out pocket watches to all your agents.”

Merlin shakes his head. “I didn’t know it was you. If I had...”

“Now that you know, can you tell me who we’re going to visit?”

Merlin looks grim again. “The note is from Arthur. Chester King. And we’re just going to talk with him,” he emphasizes. “King is a powerful man. He can’t trip and fall on his knife like the man last night. We have to handle this carefully.”

Harry remembers Chester King very well. He can’t promise there won’t be knives involved. “I can be careful.”

Merlin grabs the few items he needs from his room and hurries back downstairs. He relaxes a bit when he sees Harry waiting for him. He wouldn’t have been entirely surprised to find Harry had left to confront Arthur on his own.

He's still trying to digest the fact that the Harry Hart he fell in love with all those years ago is also the same man who was one of his greatest assets in the field. At least it's a pleasant distraction from ruminating on Arthur's betrayal. Much as he would like to believe otherwise, it's the only explanation for the contents of the note the would-be assassin was carrying.

When they arrive at Arthur’s residence, they are shown straight to his office.

“Mr Hart, Mr Elliott. What a pleasant surprise.”

He doesn’t seem particularly concerned.

Merlin strides across the room, pulling out the incriminating note as he does. He hands it to Arthur. Arthur glances down at the note, then back at Merlin. Merlin stares him down. “I found this on the man who attacked Mr Hart last night. I hope you can provide me with any explanation other than the obvious.”

Arthur sits back, looking over to the door. Harry steps in front of it, pulling it closed as he does.

Arthur calmly gestures to the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat, Merlin.” Merlin sits. “I perhaps haven’t been completely honest with you about the work we’re doing here.”

“You mean instead of working to defeat the French we’ve been feeding information to their spies? Good men have lost their lives. Why did you do it?”

“You’re so intelligent but you’ve never learned to look at the big picture. Governments come and go, even governments ruled by dictators. The war is the important part. That’s where the money is made. With the right information, a lot of money.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve worked so hard these past few years out of love for the crown, or to protect English soldiers. I know you, you did it because you love the challenge. Think of this as an even bigger challenge.”

“Hmm.”

Arthur senses blood in the water. “You’ve helped me more than you know, Merlin. This peace won’t last. Imagine what we could do together. Any ship in the fleet, delivered to the right hands, could make your fortune. We could redraw the map of Europe to our liking. You could be a kingmaker!”

Merlin rubs his mouth. “Who else are you working with?”

Arthur glances down at his desk. “I have a few contacts in the appropriate places, but as I’m sure you can understand I can’t give you any details. That’s not how this works.”

Merlin nods. “I do understand.” He pulls a pen and notebook from his pocket. “If I’m going to continue working with you, I have a few requests?”

“Merlin, no,” protests Harry as Merlin stands. Merlin ignores him, reaching for the ink on Arthur’s desk.

“Please,” Arthur smiles and moves the ink closer to Merlin.

Moving as if to dip his pen in the ink, Merlin instead stretches a bit further and scratches Arthur’s hand with the tip of the pen.

Arthur flinches away from him, clutching his hand. “What—”

It only takes a minute for the poison to take effect.

Harry comes to his side, staring open-mouthed at Arthur slumped against his desk. “You had better go and let his secretary know he’s had a heart seizure,” Merlin tells him. “Sadly, I don’t think the doctor will make it in time to save him. I’ll see what I can find in his desk.”

“You said we couldn’t kill him.”

“I said he couldn’t accidentally stab himself. And he didn’t.” Merlin starts going through the drawer Arthur had glanced at earlier.

“Remind me never to borrow your pen," is all Harry says.

* * *

Harry escorts Ginger into the concert room. It’s filled with the happy chatter of people here to see and be seen as much as they’re here to listen to music. Not a week ago Harry was helping Merlin track down traitors and scoundrels, and now he’s back to his old life of dinners, concerts and socializing. “Shall we take a turn around the room before we choose our seats?” he asks Ginger.

She doesn’t respond. He turns to find her gaze fixed across the room, where Roxy and Merlin are standing. Roxy is looking charmingly flushed and staring back at Ginger. Merlin is watching Roxy with a look that can only be described as fond. When he sees Harry looking back at him, his smile widens. Harry exchanges a nod with him before tugging on Ginger’s arm. “On second thought, I believe I see a pair of open seats that might suit.”

He and Ginger exchange a few pleasantries with Merlin and Roxy before taking their seats. When the first act concludes, Harry asks if Roxy wouldn’t mind keeping Ginger company while he asks Merlin a few questions. Nobody offers any protest.

“So you had a few questions for me?” Merlin asks as they stretch their legs strolling around the room.

“Not as such, no,” Harry says.

“I thought as much.” Merlin’s voice is low and amused.

“I am glad to see Roxy doing so well.” He can’t help but still feel some guilt for his role in the attack.

“We are indebted to you and your friends for your assistance while she recovered.”

Harry takes the opportunity to look Merlin up and down while they walk. “I hope you have recovered as well?”

“There was hardly anything to recover from.” Merlin slows, taking Harry’s elbow and pulling him into a nearby alcove. “I did want to thank you for helping me...sort out Mr King’s affairs.”

“Of course,” Harry says. Merlin is looking at him intently. "I hope you know that if you ever need my services in the future, you can rely on me.”

Merlin looks pleased to hear this, glancing around before leaning in close. “I intend to take you up on that offer, Galahad.”

As they make their way back to their seats before the music starts again, Harry wishes he could be the brave Galahad in his personal affairs, too. Maybe then he would have the courage to make Merlin a different sort of offer, again.

When Merlin stops by to check in on his sister and her family he’s hardly surprised to find Harry already there. Having neutralized the threat from King to everybody’s satisfaction, he assumed Harry would soon be off on his next adventure. Yet it seems everywhere Merlin looks, Harry is there. At the tailors. At the concert. Here, today, stopping by with Ginger to visit Tilde and Roxy just before Merlin arrived and staying behind to write a letter necessary for his next errand.

Merlin steps over to where Roxy is staring out the window with a dreamy smile. He watches with her as Ginger turns the corner out of view. “I understand congratulations are in order?” he asks with a smile.

When she finally turns away from the window, Merlin wonders if he ever looked so foolish and happy when he was young and in love. “I’m going to marry the most amazing woman in the whole world. I never knew I could be so happy.”

“I am happy for you, Roxy.”

“She wants me to go with her back to America.” She looks up at him, the happy look replaced with an anxious one. “And I want to go.” She looks at him then, holding her breath for his response.

“She and I had spoken of her plans before.” He puts a hand on her shoulder. “I will miss you very much. We all will.”

“I’ll miss you too of course.” She lowers her voice now, looking around. The only person nearby is Harry, and he’s busy with his letter. “And I won’t be around to help you with your work anymore. All the time you’ve spent training me...you’re not angry?”

Merlin shakes his head. “There’s plenty of work to be done in America; I know you’ll put everything I’ve taught you to good use. All the training in the world isn’t worth anything if you don’t have something worth working for. And that’s what you and Ginger have.”

Harry lifts his head up, pausing in his writing, but he doesn’t turn to look at them. Merlin finds he’s speaking as much to Harry as he is to Roxy. He’s never had the chance to properly apologize. “When I was your age, I fell in love too. But I allowed myself to be persuaded that it was the wrong thing to do, the wrong time, the wrong man. That my work was more important.” He tears his gaze away from the back of Harry’s head, looking back at Roxy. “I made the wrong choice. I regretted it then and I still regret it now. But I know you have more courage than I ever did. So go to America, and be happy.”

Roxy looks at him solemnly. “Thank you.”

Harry has finished his first letter and is furiously scribbling out a second. Mary calls Roxy over to look at something and she goes. Harry finishes the second letter and folds it up. As he stands, he catches Merlin’s eye, giving him a significant look as he slips the letter underneath the blotter. He makes his excuses to the others and leaves. Merlin watches him go, before strolling across the room to take a seat at the table just vacated. He pulls the letter out. It’s addressed only to “M—”

Merlin tears the letter open.

Merlin-

I am listening to you speak with Roxy about your past, our past. I apologize for listening in on your conversation. It’s not gentlemanly but I can hardly help myself. Anytime we are in the same room, my attention is always on you.

When I left all those years ago, I was badly hurt. I embarked on a tour of the world, and not just to make my mark on it. If you didn’t want me, I was determined to find someone who would. I met beautiful men and women, people who were brilliant and daring and good friends. In all my travels I never found anyone who understood me the way you did. Not a single person who made me feel the way you do.

Meeting and working with you again I find my feelings have not changed. If you truly regret the choice you made then, do you perhaps feel the same?

My services as Galahad are yours, regardless of your answer. My heart is also yours, if you want it. I await your reply.

Merlin folds the letter and tucks it safely away. He barely hears Roxy calling after him as he strides towards the door. He’s down the stairs and out into the street in minutes. The street is filled with the bustle of people and horses and carriages. He spots Harry at the end of it. Harry is moving at a considerable pace but Merlin is very motivated. Reaching him quickly Merlin stops him with a hand on his arm, swinging around in front of him.

Merlin takes a minute to catch his breath. Harry gazes at him, wide-eyed. Merlin can’t help his smile. When Harry sees it he breaks out in a smile of his own, the exact same one that always gives Merlin heart palpitations. He takes Harry’s arm and they walk down the street without speaking, no doubt looking a bit foolish, and very happy indeed.


End file.
